


Political Party

by thundercaya



Series: The Workplace Warzone [23]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, Party, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:00:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8437726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thundercaya/pseuds/thundercaya
Summary: "Glad you could make it. How’re you finding the party?”“Terrible. There’s literally no chocolate, and Charles Lee was dancing.”





	

It was official. Jefferson had given up his Cabinet position and thrown his name in the Presidential race. With no job to keep him in DC, he was back in Virginia now, when he wasn't traveling. He and Madison texted every day, but while it was nowhere near as bad as when he’d been in France, Jefferson felt the distance more now that he knew what he was missing. At least he’d be seeing Madison soon as he’d be throwing a party. Nothing too big, just a chance to schmooze with some important Virginians, and Madison was certainly one.

“What time are you coming to my party?” Jefferson asked, on the phone with Madison as Madison packed for the trip.

“What time does it end?” Madison asked.

“Smartass,” Jefferson chided with fondness.

“No, I didn’t mean- I’m not trying to show up right when it ends,” Madison defended. “I just need to know so that I can show up an hour before.”

“You need to be there longer than that. You’re supposed to be supporting me.”

“Yes, and there’s nothing I want more than to support you. But going to a party? You can’t be with me the whole time, so what am I supposed to do? Stand in a corner by myself until you’re able to come talk to me?”

“There’s going to be a lot of parties, James,” Jefferson pointed out.

Madison groaned. “Why not just ask me to nail my tongue to the ceiling? It would hurt me less.”

“You’ll finally get the chance to meet my friend Gilbert,” Jefferson offered.

“That makes me a _lot_ less nervous.” 

Jefferson could almost hear the eyeroll. “So you’re gonna talk to one new person,” he said. “You already know pretty much everyone else who’ll be there.”

“And I hate them,” Madison said.

Jefferson sighed. There was a time when he could have bribed Madison with chocolate. He probably still could, but he didn't want to be responsible for the love of his life being up all night writhing in agony. Writhing in pleasure, maybe, but never agony. Not that they could go all night. Jefferson was getting up in years and Madison never had much stamina to begin with, but this train of thought had gotten wildly off track and Jefferson needed to get back to the task at hand.

“James, come to my party for a few hours and I will make you an apple pie with my own two hands that only you will have access to.”

“It would be hard to enforce that at a party,” Madison pointed out.

“Not at the party. The next morning you will wake up to the smell of your personal pie in the oven.”

“So you're assuming I’m staying over?”

“Do you not want to?”

“Well, if there’s going to be pie, I _guess_ I can stay.”

Jefferson chuckled. “Glad that’s settled. Now. What are you wearing?”

“Honestly?” Madison sighed.

“To the party, James. What are you wearing to the party?”

“Fuck,” Madison said. “Every fucking time.”

Jefferson chose not to ease the embarrassment by explaining that if Madison ever responded positively to the prompt he wouldn’t pretend it had been a serious question.

  


The party was going off without a hitch. Jefferson’s guests were enjoying the food, the drinks, and the music, and they all seemed more than happy to talk to him about his political aspirations and offer him support. It wasn’t as if Jefferson loved parties, but he knew what he had to do to get things done and he could tolerate the socialization well enough. Certainly he was much better at it than Madison, whom Jefferson _did_ find literally standing in a corner by himself.

 _Oh, James_ , he thought to himself. If he was going to get Madison to run for President next he’d either need to teach Madison how to navigate parties--unlikely--or they were going to need to find him someone else to lean on in social situations.

Jefferson had to get pretty close to Madison before the other man noticed him, his gaze being turned to the ground, but when Madison looked up and met his eyes, his own were filled with relief.

“Thomas,” Madison greeted, extending his hand for a shake.

Jefferson took his hand and gave it a squeeze, all the longing he’d felt while they were apart and all the affection he felt now in Madison’s presence channeled into that simple contact, as well as a promise of more as soon as they could be alone.

“James. Glad you could make it. How’re you finding the party?”

“Terrible. There’s literally no chocolate, and Charles Lee was dancing.”

Jefferson grinned. “I think he’s pretty good, considering his age.”

“And considering how drunk he is. Did you really invite him?”

“No one invites Lee to anything,” Jefferson said, “but a smart man is prepared for him to show up anyway.” He put a hand on Madison’s shoulder and guided him out of his corner. “Come on, it’s time for you to meet Gil.”

Jefferson had wanted them to meet much sooner, but while Jefferson had been back to France a couple of times, it wasn’t a flight that Madison was willing to take. For Gilbert’s part, he was always so busy, it was difficult for him to make time to come to America. It was a miracle he was here now, though Jefferson suspected that wasn’t the word Madison would use. Speaking of Madison, the man seemed to be panicking now and tried to plant his feet, but Jefferson pushed him along, making him stumble the last few steps up to Gilbert.

“Gil, this has been a long time coming,” Jefferson said, “but I would like for you to meet my best friend, James Madison.”

Gilbert flashed a warm smile at Madison, though he probably didn’t see it as Madison wasn’t looking at his face.

“Mr. Madison, it is truly a pleasure to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Madison said. “Nice to meet you, too, Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier.”

Gilbert chuckled. “You don’t have to call me my whole name.”

“I actually do, Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier,” Madison said. “It’s kind of an all-or-nothing situation.”

Jefferson cleared his throat. “I think he may have practiced a bit too much.”

Gilbert chuckled. “Well. It seems my friend Hercules was right.”

Jefferson stiffened and made a throat-slashing gesture.

“He said you were, what was it?” Gilbert continued, paying Jefferson no mind. “A laugh and a half.”

Oh boy.

“I have no idea who that is or why he would be talking about me,” Madison said. “People make things up about me all the time. In fact if you’ve ever heard anyone say anything about me at anytime you should just disregard it.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t disregard all the wonderful things our Thomas here has told me about you,” Gilbert said. A valiant effort, but honestly Jefferson had already given up hope for recovery.

“Let me be more specific,” Madison said. “Alexander Hamilton. Please disregard any and all things you may have heard about me from Alexander Hamilton and anyone associated with Alexander Hamilton, including but not limited to this mystery man Hercules, Eliza Hamilton, and Philip Hamilton. Angie Hamilton is probably okay.”

“I’m pretty sure that James is dehydrated and could use a drink of water,” Jefferson said. “Isn’t that right, James?”

“I’ve never killed a hamster,” Madison blurted out. “I’ve never been in the same room as a hamster. I don’t even know what a hamster looks like.”

“Okay James, that’s enough.” Jefferson put his hand back on Madison’s shoulder and guided him away. Over his own shoulder he said; “we’ll talk later, Gil.”

Gilbert nodded and waved him on with the hand that wasn’t muffling his laughter.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Jefferson said as they approached a table of refreshments.

“Could have gone worse too,” Madison said. “I had a dream last night that that meeting ended with me on fire.”

“I can’t believe you’re friends with that guy.” Charles Lee, drinking a cup of water because Jefferson had already instructed the servers not to give him any more alcohol. He was gesturing over to where Gilbert was now chatting with Jefferson’s neighbors.

“We go way back,” Jefferson said, “though I understand your experience with him and his friends in the war wasn’t the greatest.”

“Yeah, his friends were pieces of shit,” Lee said. “Especially Alexander Hamilton and his boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry,” Madison said. “Alexander Hamilton and his what?”

“You know, that John Laurens asshole. And asshole is a fitting word for him because they were definitely….” Lee made a ring with his thumb and forefinger and pushed the forefinger of his other hand through it repeatedly. A very descriptive gesture, but certainly not one befitting the crowd.

Jefferson patted Madison’s shoulder. “Why don’t you stay here while I go make my rounds?”

“But-”

“Drink some water and have a nice chat.” Charles Lee might not be the most pleasant conversation partner, but at least there was no risk that Madison would come out feeling like _he_ was the one who should be embarrassed.

  


All the guests were gone and Jefferson was locking up the gate behind the departing catering crew. He wasn’t sure when Madison had left, but he did think that the man had done an admirable job weathering the party as long as he had. When Jefferson went upstairs, the light in his bedroom was already on, because of course Madison hadn’t actually left, but had merely brought his car around the rear and re-entered the house the back way. Jefferson opened the door and found Madison sitting in bed, dressed in his pajamas with the blanket pulled over his lap and an open book in his hand. He looked up as Jefferson entered, gave a light smile, then returned his attention to his book as Jefferson began to undress.

“Ugh,” Jefferson groaned as he flopped down onto the bed beside Madison. Only then did Madison set his book down, a hand settling into Jefferson’s hair as Jefferson scooted closer and wrapped his arms around Madison’s waist. “Thanks for being here tonight,” Jefferson said.

“About that,” Madison said. “I was thinking about my pie and I’d like to request that you thrown in some arsenic.”

“Sorry, fresh out,” Jefferson muttered into Madison’s side. “I can do cyanide if you want, though. I’ll just leave in the seeds.”

“So resourceful,” Madison said. He started to shift down and Jefferson loosened his grip to let him. Once they were level, Jefferson held him again and gave him the kiss he’d been saving for weeks, followed by several more for good measure.

“In all seriousness,” Madison said when Jefferson left him free to use his mouth for a moment, “I can’t talk to your friend ever again, so don’t ask me to.”

“Noted,” Jefferson said. “Sorry about leaving you with Charles Lee.”

“That was actually fine” Madison said. “He just kept going on about Hamilton and Laurens. I found it very informative.”

“Don’t tell me you thought Hamilton was straight.”

“Well, I did have some evidence that he was attracted to men, but I couldn’t confirm that my evidence was what I thought it was without actually knowing that he was attracted to men.”

“You lost me, hon,” Jefferson said.

“Well, there was a time when I was pretty sure Hamilton was flirting with me, but I couldn’t say for sure that he was actually flirting without knowing--”

Jefferson sat up. “When the hell was this?”

“A long time ago,” Madison assured, sitting up as well. “Before I gave him any reason to detest me. That first day he invited me to his house, actually.”

Jefferson squinted. “I seem to recall you sending me a very detailed email about that day. I don’t remember any mentions of flirting.”

“Well, in the first place, as I just explained, I wasn’t sure that was what it was,” Madison said. “In addition, look how up in arms you are about it now. If I had told you that someone else was hitting on me before you and I were in a stable relationship, who knows how you would have taken it.”

“All right, point,” Jefferson said, settling back into the bed and tugging Madison down with him. “I guess I can’t blame him, anyway. I wish you’d told his wife, though. That would have been fun.”

Madison huffed out a laugh. “Maybe for you. I’ve never had an interaction with that woman that I’d call fun.”

“Speaking of fun,” Jefferson said, sliding a hand up inside of Madison’s shirt, "what are your plans for the rest of your time here?”

“No fun to speak of, so that was a terrible segue. I’ll be visiting various family members and that’s about it.”

“Well then, I’ll just have to make sure you have some fun before you go,” Jefferson said, fingers ghosting over Madison’s skin.

First Madison shivered, then he yawned. “Ask me tomorrow after I’ve had my pie,” he said. “I just might give you an answer you like.”


End file.
